


He Who Wrote His Death

by DigitalPaperCuts



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Dissociation, Hallucinations, Healthy doses of angst, Insanity, Maybe redemption arc pog?, More angst, Nightmare is just made up by Dream, Pandora's Vault, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Regretful Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), So make of them what you will, did I stutter?, he do be bordering the brink of insanity tho, no beta we die like men, pacing go whooosh, ya boi be hurtin'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:28:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29618517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalPaperCuts/pseuds/DigitalPaperCuts
Summary: Dream is already starting to wither after a week in prison.With an ongoing war ragging inside his head, he's trying to keep it together.Pandora's Vault isn't that forgiving.
Relationships: Clay Dream & Nightmare (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude
Comments: 12
Kudos: 200





	1. You're Hopeless, Get Used to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Go easy on me I'm trying.  
> So uh- here's some vent writing♡

His mask lay seemingly forgotten on the smoldering hot obsidian. Scratches and chips engulfed the once pristine, smooth surface.

I should've known this would happen. It was always meant to be like this.

_Oh stop being sorry for yourself. What good'll that do? It's a pathetic sight._

You're right, again.

_I'm always right, you know that._

How long has it been?

_If you don't know how should I? Honestly, I feel as if I'm the only one with common sense._

You're not even real, Nightmare.

_I'm a product of your ..instability. I'm what you make of me. I can be real, if you want._

I _want_ you to leave me alone.

That didn't warrant a response.

It stayed that way for a while, quiet.

Somehow the silence was louder than the makeshift conversation with his thoughts.

Thoughts? He'd given them a name-Nightmare. What was their relationship, anyway? Sometimes they'd comfort him, but the majority of the time they'd berate him. But what should he call them-it? Well, he did make them up, but they seemed to take on a life of their own.

Whatever. He's not thinking about that now. He'll just enjoy their presence. Even if they're just a figment of his imagination, at least he doesn't feel as alone.

 _God_ , that's pathetic. It'd only been how long? Time seemed to drag on, stretching and stretching out, the only thing separating day from day was the pop of a dispenser.

Judging by the pile of potatoes that sat in the corner, he guessed it could've only been a week or so. He was already shattering after a week of isolation? A mere _child_ could do this but a _god_ was already starting to unravel?

A god. More like a man who tried too hard to become one.

That's laughable.

Dream glanced down at the ground, only to be greeted with the off-white porcelain mask smiling up at him with cold indifference.

He couldn't help but feel disgusted by the thing, it harbored so many memories. Those both good and bad. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

They could take away his weapons, his armour, his freedom, hell, even his dignity, but they'd never be able to take away his memories.

_Sometimes, he wish they could._


	2. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit? I received a lot more positive feedback than I thought I would? <33 
> 
> Y'all made my day, so here's a quick little update! <3

Dream awoke to the crackling of lava.

His limbs ached, feeling like a poorly oiled machine. Of course, passing out on the hard obsidian will do that to you.

He couldn't bring himself to move, vision blurry and head foggy.

He nearly forgot where he was for a moment. Who he was. How he got here.

When he remembered, it hit him like a bullet square in the chest. A forgien feeling had started to settle in his gut.

He craved that sweet obliviousness, to be innocent. Pure and untainted by the horrors life had to offer. One can only wish.

He should've been out of here by now.

_Why would that be?_

You're back?

_And you're dodging the question. Why should you be out of here?_

I'm the reigning supreme of this server, a god! These people bend at my will. I have power. You had power.

_You don't own anything now. How do you intend on getting out?_

I'll find a way. I always do.

_Tell me Dream,_

_When will you realize that you've forged the very chains that bound you? Every move you had taken, every relationship destroyed, had only yielded a new chain link._

You're the reason you're here, it's no one else's fault.

_So tell me, why do you feel so deserving of release?_

... He didn't know.

_I see. Well, you'd better get used to this life. It's your last one, after all. Try not to be so glum. Honestly, it's revolting._

That's a little hard considering the situation I'm in.

Dream flew his hands up to gesture to his surroundings, but was stopped halfway by the thick chains that binded him to the cell.

 _Whatever. Seems like you have a visitor_.

As if on cue, the never-ending sea of lava started to part, a silhouette of a person appeared before him in all their grandiose. 


	3. Jukebox Jig

  
A visitor?

Once it had finally clicked, he scrambled to clasp his mask onto his head. The comfortable weight was familiar; it made him feel safe in the fact that he was unreadable. 

Unpredictable.

The scorching hot magma parted completely, allowing a set of shiny armour paired with a gas mask to be revealed. The platform connected to the obsidian with a load thunk that shook Dream to his core.

Uncurling himself slightly, he sat in a relaxed position, feigning confidence. </p

The Warden came into full veiw before him, trident in hand. He stood imposingly, hardly moving a muscle. The reflection of the lava on his armour gave off a godlike effect. The netherite-clad man stalked forward only to completely ignore him in favor of the wall.

  
Reaching forward, he spread out his inventory to retrieve a small circular gold item. Wordlessly placing it on the frame, he closed his inventory and eyed Dream.

He looked up at his captor silently, daring him to say something. To break the quiet atmosphere. 

Now facing Dream, he took a step forward. His boot hit the ground making a loud clang, echoing throughout the small space. Finally, he spoke.

"If you throw your clock away again, I'm not giving you another. Don't burn it." 

_Thow away his clock.? ..Not giving..?_

A wave of anxiety hit him at full blast as he registered the warning.

He can't take away his clock! No, he can't. He won't. He's bluffing, surely.

The clock sat there innocently. 

Wait, 'throw away again'? He never threw away anything except some of the books Tommy requested him to write. What? He stole another glance at the clock before looking back at The Warden.

"Am I understood?" 

Dream could only nod dumbly, offering up nothing of value. 

How long...? 

Before he could blink an eye, the man was gone. 

The pile of potatoes was that of a mountain now, piling up in his cell. That's _weeks_ worth of potatoes.  
  
  
  
  


 _Why can't he remember?_

.

╎ℸ ̣'ᓭ ᒲᒷ._.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
リᒷ⍊e∷ ⎓𝙹r⊣eℸ ̣._.  
.  
.  
The soft melody of a jukebox plays nearby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter more than the others, and that says something. 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed, sorry it was so rushed! :(


	4. Please Read This!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read, it's short I promise!

Essentially this was going to be a "Dream the secret ender dragon hybrid is connected to Ranboo and that's why he hears Ranboo just like Ranboo hears him so nightmare is just Ranboos subconscious or somethin'?" 

But uh, I don't know how to go about that. So this fic is officially on hiatus until I work out the kinks.

There will be a full rewrite of this story, don't worry. 

And there will be an actual plan. This was just a 'write it, then write the next chapter on improv' 

The new work will have much longer, more detailed chapters. 

When I start it, I'll post in in a series with this one. 

Have a good one! Sorry :'c

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think! I love writing, even if I suck at it. Hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
